Harry Potter and the Dark Star
by Serkyan Lugria
Summary: What if a being of untold power "replaced" death? What if, when Harry first tried the cloak on his first year, this being decided to...intervene? Watch as Harry's story is retold, from the meek, abused boy...to something else entirely. Be warned, this story will contain shitloads of gore, torture and cannibalism. And just a bit of crazy...well more than a bit. Yandere!Harry
1. Witness the Dark Star

"Talking"  
 _Thinking  
_ **"Dark Star speech/demonic speech"**

 **Chapter 1 - Witness the Dark Star**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Warning: this story will have gore, torture; both mental and physical; and cannibalism.**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It had happened the moment he donned his father's heirloom, the Cloak. One moment he was in front of Ron in the Gryffindor Common Room, the next he was among the stars, the darkness space seemingly engulfing him from all around.

" **Ahh…what have we here?** " Harry felt a shiver run down his spine at the sound, it sounded…wrong. He looked around frantically to find the owner of the voice, but after a minute of nothing happening he decided maybe he was hearing things, and began to try to understand what was happening. Ron had asked him to cover himself with the cloak, wanting to witness it. The following moment he felt himself dragged away, and he stood in the void, his eyes searching for anything that could take him back.

" **Hahahahaha…** " Harry felt like crying at the sound of laughter, more than his Uncle, more than anything he'd seen since becoming part of this new world of magic, that simple sound frightened him, it was like it could reach into his soul, and twist whatever goodness was there. " **And so the fabled master appears…** " the voice sounded highly amused, and again Harry couldn't find its source as the voice came from all directions around him. He momentarily wondered what it meant by master, but before his mind could begin forming any actual thoughts that made some amount of sense on the matter; he froze once more as it continued. " **Oh how I looked forward to this…** "

This time he **could** pinpoint where the voice came from, and it came from above him, so he turned his head upward, and to fall back in terror, as whatever it was, was **huge**. He couldn't begin to describe the creature, but his head…he could see the horns, the sharp teeth, even as it grinned down at him…

" **Harry James Potter…** " the voice drawled, sounding highly amused at his predicament. Harry was so terrified he **felt** himself lose control of his bladder, he could feel the hot liquid spreading in his pajama pants as tears fell from his eyes. " **So you came in contact with one of Death's** ** _gifts_** **.** " It contemplated him for what felt like an eternity, and Harry didn't know what was worse, wanting it to kill him so this nightmare would end, or the fact that somewhere deep inside he simply wanted to die so he didn't return to the Dursleys anymore.

" **Die? No, boy, Death cannot take you…anymore…** " The being laughed maniacally at that; making the eleven year old shudder in fear once more, closing his eyes if only momentarily before he lost control of his body and being forced to look once more to the being in front of him. " **I contemplated on how to proceed once we met, child…and the conclusion I came to will benefit you, and regardless of the outcome, amuse me.** "

" **You see, I am the Dark Star, all-consuming and all powerful. But I am also…extremely bored. I have consumed all in my original dimension, therefore I decided to travel…but I consumed enough Suns, enough deities…doing it all again won't satiate me.** " The being began to shrink in itself, forming a dark hole with its garments as it did so, and reappeared directly in front of Harry. " **That is where you come in, child. As I consumed this dimension's Death, I received visions of someone who would force it to serve. That vision intrigued me."** It took a few steps, approaching Harry and standing dangerously close now.

" **You, child, if my visions are correct, will be an extremely powerful entity in this universe. And I want to see just how far you can grow. I will give you a fragment of my power…and I give it to you in the hopes that one day you come to know the hunger I feel, and perhaps we'll gladiate at one point.** " The being began lifting one of its hands toward Harry, and for the first time he saw what it carried. A dark orb, not unlike a black hole rose until it rested inches from his face, and Harry felt himself being sucked into it, despite his cries of protest.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He wasn't sure how long he'd been afloat, but he did know he grew during that time, and he became an adult as he drifted in the nothingness. He didn't know how old he was, as time was meaningless to him during that time, but it wasn't a cruelty, as it was like he was dreaming, with his eyes open, he didn't feel the need to eat, to go to the bathroom, no fear…nothing.

He had surrendered himself to that fate, when something new happened, he fell once again, into a land he had no clue about, and was found by scholars, or at least people that introduced themselves as scholars, and they took him in, fed him, taught over the course of many months, and ultimately sent him to a vault, to be their keeper of magical artifacts. He was not alone, however, as there was someone else, a woman, with him; his teacher, they said.

They didn't speak for the first few weeks, Harry simply adapted to the routine, he would inspect every artifact closed in the vault with them, to ensure their functionality, walk out of the vault with the woman for their meals, and sleep on the room adjacent to the one they **worked**. It wasn't until their third month working together that the woman first spoke with him, her eyes darting toward the shadows.

"Do you hear…? This…song….?" Harry had found the woman's voice to be enticing, but he ignored that in favor of paying attention to any other sounds coming from the room, but he could hear nothing, no song, no voices, just the sound of his breathing, and hers. He didn't get to respond as the question had barely left her lips she was back to her original position, sitting in front of an old tome, inspecting it.

The following day something similar happened, but instead of worried, she turned to him with a seductive smile, and winked at him. But as he blinked in confusion, and to ensure his sight had not failed him, the woman was once again in her original pose, reading from a tome or other as he was left confused and a little afraid of the place both were locked in.

Day in and day out he would see similar things, and they escalated in intensity. To the point where, one day he could have sworn she kissed him, and whispered sexily in his ear " _I know you want me…come and take me._ " At first he was sure it was the dark magics they were surrounded by that were simply working their way into their minds, but the longer it went on, every day she would go further and further, touches that left his skin burning with desire, promises of love he'd longed to hear since he was a child, to always stay together, never leaving each other's' side…after what for him were countless years of this routine, of him asking her if that was what she really wanted, of him holding his own desires back, Harry had finally fallen, prey to the Dark Magics, and he did indeed take the woman, whose name he never really learned. But that did not bother him in the slightest, all that matter were their bodies united in love as they now were, her eyes on his, that beautiful smile on her face…

As another session of their passionate lovemaking ended, Harry pulled away from his woman, smiling down at her, and he was about to speak to her, but he saw what was actually behind the illusions he had been seeing for the past year. There was no one under him, there was no one else locked away in the vault with him. He had been alone this past year, and the artifacts lured him in with the one thing he desired more than anything, companionship. The dark haired man looked at where he could have sworn his beloved one was moments ago, a stunned expression at the realization that the companion he'd found had been a lie, fabricated in order to…torment him. He remembered all the times they left the vault together, the strange looks he'd receive. He always thought it was because he had let his hair grow, as she'd told him she liked it, but all eyes were always on **him** , all greeting went to **him**. No one else acknowledged her existence; no one else saw her…she was never there. All their conversations, their plans for the future, a family once their service was done for…Harry hid his face in his hands as he sobbed, agonizing in his own solitude.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **†** **Timeskip: 5 Years Later †**

He didn't know how long he'd been down there anymore, nor did he care. He only knew he wanted payback for the suffering he went through, to believe he wasn't alone anymore, only to have it taken from him, for **their** amusement. He had been inspecting a book; the book the woman would read daily, when an idea struck. They had reveled in his suffering from the day the truth was unleashed before his eyes, so maybe he could cause them some suffering as well.

The book in his grasp was a living book, meaning it could **feel** whatever was done to it, and as Harry took hold of a page to turn, he pulled, tearing that single page from the book, relishing in the fact that, although it couldn't scream in pain at what was done, it nonetheless suffered. He took another page in his hand, tearing that one was well. He could **feel** the anguish exhaling from the book, and that knowledge brought him untold amounts of pleasure. He came close to completely killing the book; and by killing, Harry of course meant tearing every single page from it; but as only one remained, he would restore the book to its entirety, only to restart his methodical tearing of the pages.

He knew where every artifact resided, and as such he knew of this one mirror, containing the memories of an age old mage that was near the stairs leading to the outside. Harry walked toward it, ignoring momentarily everything else inside the vault. The mage inside watched curiously for a moment, before Harry, a sadistic grin on his face, scratched the surface of the of the mirror, not stopping until it was completely opaque from the abuse he'd put it through, trapping the mage inside in complete darkness before he restored the artifact, only to begin anew.

Another year had come and gone and Harry had grown very efficient in his **handling** of the artifacts. There was untold amounts of spells inside that vault, and if there one thing Harry knew about magic is that it liked to be used, so even that he used as a means to torture the artifacts, he'd read a spell, and follow the incantation to the letter…until the last syllable, where he would simply allow it to die in his lips, the word trailing into nothingness before it could be completed.

All the while he had, of course, mastered the exquisite art of covering his own atrocities. No one in the order was the wiser when it came to his torture of their precious little artifacts, and it brought him even more joy to know that, he could tear that one book page for page daily, reattach it all and the following day he could do so again if he so desired, because not a single soul would stop him. _Why, though…why do I need to hide my work?_ The former wizard; he could not perform a single magic during his time in this new land, given he didn't have access to his wand, and the artifacts apparently **fed** off his magic, making themselves more powerful the more he'd resisted; found himself wondering as he finished his work of restoring the living book once more. _Why can't I show this magnificent suffering?_

Weeks rolled by as he continued his new routine of finding ways to cause suffering to the artifacts that surrounded him, until one day the others in the order brought him human company. Specifically a warlock, dragged into the vault in chains, who'd somehow gone and made himself immortal; no matter the wound he received he would simply heal; and Harry just couldn't **wait** to become acquainted with this poor soul.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **†** **Timeskip: One Month Later †**

Harry finished his meal beside the warlock that had been brought to him, as the man cried in agony from his torn flesh across his back, a serene smile on his face as he ate. It had been some time since he last joined the others in a meal, and if he was honest Harry believed the order had simply forgotten about him down there, along with the lesser dark artifacts he watched over. Not the he cared, of course, it simply meant there was no need to be secretive about his passion.

Harry dropped the fork, having finished another meal, taking the hook he used to rend the flesh from the warlock's bones, and moved around his vault; yes, he had come to see that space as his lair, his own personal paradise; the chains attached to it dragging on the ground below, Harry laughed as the warlock whimpered, trembling in fear at the sound. What was even more satisfying was the fact that the warlock no longer needed to be contained, as simply the fear the man felt at the mere sound of the dragging chains was enough to keep him…docile.

It had been some time since Harry had made an appearance on the surface, his skin had become pale from the lack of sunlight, but for some reason his physical health didn't seem to deteriorate, there was no change to his lean form, his face was still angular, he felt no weaker than he was when they appointed him to this **job**. Harry wore the same outfit since day one, only removing it in order to have said outfit cleaned. It consisted of a long dark coat, under which he wore nothing. Dark pants covered his lower body and on his feet, boots that reached to his knees.

On his arms, over the coat Harry wore the chains that once bound the warlock under his care. Carefully wrapped around each forearm in such a way there would be left overs to drag across the stone floor whenever he chose to roam the vault, simply to torment his charge. The hook was held firmly in his right hand, and he would twirl it as he walked, grabbing the chains he connected to it. There were, of course other things composing his uniform, so to speak. The keys to many other locked relics lay on his waist, hanging from their own chain.

The order scarcely came to check on him or his wards anymore. Of course, mayhap it had to do with the disappearance of quite a few of its members, who would, unaware of the danger, come into his domain for information. The first time he threw his hook at someone, that first member or the order to trespass without authorization, Harry felt a sense of…joy at the sound of metal crushing flesh, and he pulled the man inside, slowly, even as the magics around closed the door for him.

That man had been his first…subject coming from outside cursed relics or moronic warlocks. He relished in prolonging his torment for as long as possible before he finally perished, his wounds too grievous, his flayed skin, unsalvageable.

Then it came, the day that would forever be known as Ruination, the day everything died. Everything except, of course, for him

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

AN: Welp, been a while. I won't go into my personal life anymore, don't worry, lesson learned, but I'll say that, that comment I read got me to a bad place and I had to leave for some time. I'll say this, answering that person who's nick I don't remember...I'm sorry for what you have to go through, and you're right I don't know your problems, but you really don't know mine, no two people experience things in a similar manner, but instead of being rational about it you prefer to act the way you do. So I'm sorry.

Now that that's out of the way, lemme say I'm not exactly back, this story just has been dancing in my head for a while, because I've been playing a lot of League of Legends lately, just for laughs and I really, **really** love Thresh. So much so Harry's pairing will be a female version of him '-'

Updates will be inconsistent at best as I'm still working through my shit, psychiatrist and all that, so bear with me awhile longer, I'm almost through the bad times...well I'll be medicated most of the time, but I'll hopefully be in writing condition then =P

Now for questions about this story. I want to make it a single pairing, Harry/FemThresh, but I'm not against the idea of a Harem, so if you want it, let me know in the comments and I'll...eventually read them (I'll be honest and say I'm not reading any at the moment, I'm afraid I'll lose the nerve to write again) and say who you think would fit this personality I'm giving Harry...oh and keep in mind he will be a Yandere when it comes to his loved ones, so if you point out someone I think wouldn't like, we'll have a character death as a result. Just sayin '-'

What else...The Conqueror, my "gem" so to speak, I'm rewriting the next chapter as I said before, I didn't like the direction things were going before, so now I'll take some time longer to finish. Sorry not sorry and all that '-'

I think that about sums it up...see ya.


	2. A New Haunting Ground

**"** Talking"  
 _Thinking_

 **"Dark Star Speech/Demonic Speech"**

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 **Chapter 2 - A New Haunting Ground**

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

* * *

 **†** **Timeskip: Two Years Later †**

The very ground beneath his feet shook with a violent force, and Harry grinned. Whatever was happening on the surface, it was a party he did not intend to miss. He turned from his work, heading toward the vault's door, but stopped when the doors were thrown open by a mist, a green mist, that circled him and tried feeding on his life,

And it was in those moments of exquisite pain that Harry finally remembered that encounter countless years ago, the promise of a fraction of the Dark Star's power. The mist could not consume him, not in the manner it wanted to anyway. Instead it twisted and reformed his body, so the outside reflected the creature within.

His cloak ripped and tore as ethereal bones of the dead, the people he'd killed for fun, fused themselves with it. The cloak remained opened, and his torso in plain view, the edges of his cloak now held bones of the dead, from the collar to the end, near his calves. Around the back of the cloak, at his waist now resided a belt made of bones, with a deformed skull at his back, horned and mouth hanging open, in a last scream of sweet agony.

The hook and chains were next to change. Both hook and chain twisted on themselves, turning from purely metallic constructs to extensions of his depravity. The chains looked like the bones he now wore; whereas before they were simply wrapped around his forearms for presentation, they penetrated his skin, tearing into his flesh, truly becoming an extension of him; while his hook glowed in the light of the mist, and he could **feel** there was something quite different about it from before. His skin suffered no change, his eyes, already green before it all happened, gained a new light of power within, turning them from emerald green to the color of the mist, the same color of the new adornments on his clothing, a lighter shade of green.

His hair remained the darkest of colors, but it wasn't **hair** anymore, at least it didn't feel like hair. It was almost like a part of the mist instead. It was long and swayed with an unseen wind behind him.

The mist left him, its work finished, and he moaned as the pain receded, eyes opening to see the world once again. Harry remembered his conversation with the Dark Star, how it'd consumed untold worlds and deities to grow stronger, and the promise of their encounter down the line, a fight to remember, if he became strong enough.

His attention turned from his memoirs to the warlock, twisting and agonizing as the mist worked its necrotic magic on him. Harry licked his lips hungrily, twirling his hook with his right hand as he walked close, chains dragging behind him.

"Let the tale of the all-consuming begin anew…" he whispered, noting that his voice had stayed the same, only gaining the growl of death, giving him a deeper, raspy tone.

* * *

For the first time and countless years Harry walked out of the vaults, into the world outside. The isle he once lived in, simple and ugly in its peaceful beauty, not held the unrelenting screams of the tormented dead, rotten nature and destroyed man-made constructs. A truly beautiful sight to behold; he stopped his musings when he felt a strong presence somewhere close by, and as he descended the stairs of the temple, he could see someone, being reanimated by the magics that corrupted the Isle.

He watched as the corpse was reanimated, he noticed it was a woman once she groaned as she awoke once again, the weapons used to murder her still piercing her torso. Her armor was simple, a mail that covered her torso, but not her arms, a helmet that on her head with some sort of plumage atop it. Harry stopped his twirling momentarily, a frown on his face.

"Such a pity…" he said, her head turning in his direction as he spoke, the hook already thrown. "I could have used the company." There was no real sorrow in his voice, it was as though he was simply joking to himself as he pulled, the hook rending her flesh and grasping at the soul that had been once more bound to her now dead body. "Alas…I hunger." He grinned at the woman, even as the soul once more separated from the corpse, joining the warlock as his second meal in this new, delightful existence.

He still scoured the Isle for more, he needed to feed, his hunger had not been sated, his desire for agony less so. Harry discovered a very interesting ability of his as he wandered the Isle in search for other meals. He could turn himself into a wraith, invisible to all eyes but those he would allow see him.

Harry laughed in glee as he heard the sounds of a horseman galloping away. He had turned his attention to his next meals and while the average wraith he came across did little to appease his hunger, this new acquaintance looked much…juicier.

* * *

 **†** **Flashback: An Hour Earlier †**  
He'd found the man-horse as he wandered, idly consuming the wraiths unlucky enough to cross his path, when the man-horse galloped his way, the sound of the hooves hitting concrete alerting him to his approach.

There was a sinister grin on the creature's face, but Harry held place in his soul for fear of only one entity at the moment, and that was the Dark Star itself. He could feel his latest meal; Kalista, he'd learned the name of the beautiful woman he'd nearly spared was; bristle in her hatred of the man, and searching her memories, he found the betrayal of Hecarim, her death at the hands of the man she'd once trusted and confided in, and Harry chuckled darkly.

"Shall I make him pay for you?" He wondered aloud, hook no longer in movement. The dark entity raised its spear to strike at him, but Harry simply allowed his form to become ethereal, and he passed through, harmlessly. Harry turned as Hecarim passed him, walking slowly toward the man-horse, his chains dragging behind him, the dooming sound echoing through the otherwise quiet; well, quieter since he'd consumed so many of its wraiths; Isle.

He threw his hook at the…what was he called…Knight Commander? Successful in his desire to bring pain to the man-horse, who wailed as the hook sunk into the skin of his horse half. Harry yanked at the chain, the satisfying tear, followed by another wail of pain enough the send a pleasurable shudder across his body. The bits and pieces that separated from Hecarim drew to him like a moth is drawn to the flame, and he consumed the flesh, as well as the power of the mist the enveloped the Isles.

At that moment he saw Hecarim struggle with his binding and flee once he was free. Harry laughed delightfully. Making the beast suffer for betraying Kalista would have to suffice as his way of apologizing for following his hunger when consuming her outright.

* * *

Back from his trip down memory lane, Harry continued his slow paced chase of Hecarim, the dragging chains hauntingly echoing as he walked after the man-horse. There was no escaping him, and he would ensure Hecarim knew that before the end.

He stalked the man-horse, and as he walked past a cave Harry stopped, a shiver of excitement crossing his body. He could feel something deep within…something dark, powerful and ancient. Perhaps the most powerful being he would encounter while roaming the Isles. His mind distracted from Hecarim, the newly reform entity walked into the cave, humming a toneless tune as he did, and his humming somehow coincided with the sound of his chains dragging along the rocky ground.

"Well, you're big." He stated simply, looking at the visage of a gigantic spider. It seemed to recognize him as a threat as instantly upon his proclamation, the arachnid spewed a form of gas, that like a wave advanced on him, and idly, he noted it to be poison as whatever life there was around; something Harry had found curious, given the mist had decimated everything else on the Island; withered and died at its touch.

The poison hit him dead on and he could feel sweet agony as it tried and failed to kill him once he breathed it in. He moaned at the feeling, letting the pleasurable wave of exquisite pain wash over him momentarily, before setting his gaze once again upon the giant spider. His lack of dying seemed to give the creature pause, and Harry wasted no time in using that time to his advantage, as he swung his trusted hook toward it, hitting its front legs as it raised them to defend itself.

A yank of the chain later and he could already feel the immense power he would be consuming soon. It seemed to be unused to the pain, as it thrashed wildly and aimlessly. He didn't want things to be easy, but once more the hunger took over and he once more threw his chain, this time hitting the beast's maw, and it was a simple yank later that caused it to crash down in pain, whimpering.

Harry approached it, chuckling darkly as he did so and feast on it he did, consuming soul and flesh alike, the influx of power was like the first time he used magic in his life, the rush, the joy…but it was tenfold the feeling, the freedom it brought to grow in strength.

He let out a happy sigh as he finished, hunger completely sated, at least for the foreseeable future, and Hecarim completely driven from his mind as he thought to test his growing powers. He remembered the Dark Star once more, specifically how it stated it could travel dimensions, and decided to test his own ability to do so, concentrating his magic on his desire to be taken to an alternate version of this world, where he could once more feast upon…Vilemaw, if the memories he was receiving were to be trusted…and maybe save Kalista from her fate.

Harry raised his arms, close together, his palms touching and slowly separated them, envisioning as he did so the opening of a rift in time and space that would take him elsewhere, to an alternate version of the world he currently inhabited. There was a tear in the air as his arms drew apart, but apparently he didn't use enough power to complete the **spell** because moments later it closed completely, causing him to sigh heavily. So he would to use more power.

It were two or three attempts later when Harry finally got the desired effect, as a rift big enough for him to pass through opened, and pass through he did.

* * *

The rift disappeared once he had crossed, leaving him alone with this world's version of Vilemaw, who was watching him way more carefully than the first version he'd slain. Not one to throw away a free meal, Harry set upon the beast once more, this time not giving it the time to defend itself.

The second battle had been even faster than the first. He'd consumed the spider quicker this time, not needed as much time to adjust to the power increase he felt as he feasted upon its flesh and soul. But now he was not only sated, he was full, Harry could honestly say that hunger was not an issue for him, and he knew for certain it wouldn't be for a long, **long** time yet.

Now he was curious, about this version of the world he was in, and the first place he was going to turn his attention to was the vault, he wanted to see just what poor soul would become the **guardian** of those artifacts in this plane.

The trek toward the…temple, where the order kept the dark artifacts was rather boring. The Isles had yet to suffer their ultimate fate, the trees were a lively green that would bring peace to his heart, in his old life, but new the color simply annoyed him. The people were lively, talking amicably to each other, and irked him, memories of the companion he never truly had resurfacing, the years he had suffered because of that, the manipulations of the dark magics still plagued his mind.

Harry stopped momentarily to watch a young couple, speaking sweet nothings to each other, very much unaware of the despair and devastation they would experience soon. The thought of their suffering brought a grin to the sadist's face, his green eyes alight with desire. Oh how he longed for the day the Isles burned once more.

Luckily enough he'd arrived at the order just in time to witness the damnation of this planet's version of…well, of him. They spoke of the importance of such an undertaking, of how **she** should be proud for being considered for the role, given only the best among them had the privilege; a lie, he knew all too well, as he'd been with the order for mere five months before they threw him away with the dark magics.

He followed them close by, adopting his welcome ability to remain invisible for an untold amount of time. Harry watched as the woman was ushered inside the vault, and followed her in, before the man simply wished her luck in her task and closed the door. He knew it was a matter of time, before she snapped, much like he did. He watched her for a time, as the magics in the vault worked their…well, magic on her psyche.

They played with every fear she ever had, her insecurities, illusions so real he had to watch as the woman curled into herself and cried the days away. He wanted to watch until she began her path to torturing the artifacts so he joined in, but the way things were going, that was not the fate awaiting her, so a different approach was needed, and thinking back to his own haunting, he knew just what to do.

* * *

AN: Yo yo yo! What's up guys? So, new chapter for this story, hope yall enjoy a more sadistic Harry...I could make things more graphic but I didn't want to scare people away '-' anyways, Kayle is a femThresh! Well not yet but...ahh...spoiler? xD

Anyway, this fic is going to be among my darkest so don't expect Harry to be happy for long...at least for now, first I'm going to make him less evil and more of a sadistic, blood-grayish character '-' only AFTER that he's going to start seeing to the Happily Ever After we all know he deserves...just a heads up '-'

Silver D. Wolf: Thanks =3

I'll try answering your comments every new chapter, I keep forgetting to do so, but I'll try that's something right? xD

Anyway hope you enjoy the read, and I'll see ya next time o/


	3. Birth of the Warden

**"** Talking"

 _Thinking_

 **"Dark Star Speech/ Demon Speech"**

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 **Chapter 3: Birth of the Warden**

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

* * *

Her eyes darted nervously around her, her breathing shallow and quick-paced. She'd only been down at the vault for five months, and she tried to endure to the best of her abilities, but the things she'd seen…she knew her positionwithin the order was a permanent one, and asking to stop was not an option, at least given the vows she'd taken when accepting said position.

But now she simply wished she could take those vows back, and leave this accursed place to never again return. She passed a hand through her hair, pulling a strand from behind her ear and playing with it, a sort of nervous tick of hers. She tried taking calming breaths, as it had been a few days now since the last incident, and maybe the worst was over, so now she could work in relative peace; so concentrated on her breathing, she barely noticed when her eyelids became heavier until they closed, and she slept for the first time in months.

As her eyes opened, the first thing she noticed was the stench, the vile stench of the worst beverages anywhere in the Isles. Her heart quickened, eyes opening wide, the intake of light barely registering in her panic. _Not again…please…_ _ **please**_ _not again…_ tears began forming as she heard the voice again, close to her ear.

"Hello, poppet. You didn't believe I would just leave you, did you?" The voice was close to her ear, she could feel the hot breath tickling her skin as whoever it spoke. She never gathered the courage to turn around, too terrified of the implications of his words, his actions. His hands began wandering her body once more, and she shut her eyes tightly, sobbing and begging it to stop, to leave her alone.

"Leave you alone? Now why would I do that, poppet?" The voice whispered, hand slipping down her stomach, toward her groin. She had tried resisting, pulling the hand away, but that only made things worse, as she still remembered the beatings. Even if those were not real she **felt** every single time he struck, so now she just sat and waited for it to leave, so she could curl once again and cry. More than once she'd considered ending her life with one of the artifacts in her care, she had no way to contact the outside, her room was within the vault, meals were just pushed through the door…she was more a prisoner of the order than these dark magics.

It was then that something different occurred, just as the hand was about to again violate her, the voice seemed to scream in pain and dissipate, she could feel the hand touching her slowly unravel, and as she raised her head, both in shock and relief, she saw her savior stepping from the mist of the illusion, a warm smile upon his visage.

"Don't worry; they will not bother you as long as I'm here." He'd told her, as he stopped next to her sitting spot, just…floating there. She had a hard time believing him, even though, unlike the **other** voice, his had a friendly tone to it, even if it did sound, weird, to her ears. "I'm Harry" he said simply, trying to strike a conversation. "What's yours miss?"

* * *

Harry was very patient with his plan, that first they simply spoke to one another, and he could see as she slowly relaxed with his presence, and as the day was about to end, he'd told her he should let her rest and promised to be back when she woke. That was when part one of his plan was completed, she had held onto his sleeve, turning to him for the first time, ignoring his…ornaments, she asked; nearly begged in fact; that he stay, which, of course, he smiled at her and acquiesced, telling her she should sleep and he'd keep watch over her during the night.

It became kind of a routine for the two, they'd spend the day simply conversing and at night he would sit on her chair, and watch her as she slept. During those times that he pondered upon his thoughts; he'd started this plan to corrupt her into something like him when…the day came. But as he got to know her, Harry wanted something more; of course, he was still going to corrupt her to the point she would take great personal pleasure on inflicting pain; he wanted her companionship, something he'd been thinking about since his own haunting at the hands of his versions of the artifacts.

And so weeks became months, and he would drop hints every once in a while about how good it'd feel to take revenge on the very artifacts that haunted her. She seemed to entertain the thought for a while, before she would simply change the subject and ask him about something else. At this point Harry had told her almost everything about his life before he'd met the Dark Star, and it was amazing to him that she hadn't told him to leave, given everything that happened.

Exactly one year since they'd met Harry dared touch hands with her, an action that sent a jolt through his very core; a good one, of course; and she seemed to have been affected as well, as she averted her gaze momentarily with a little smile slowly spreading. At that moment he swore he'd do all in his power to make her smile more often, because beautiful as she was normally, that was the moment she'd looked the most beautiful he'd seen; and he had been **gifted** with the woman of his dreams back on his **home** world.

* * *

"So, what do you want to know about me this time?" He asked with a grin. Not the hungry, sadistic one he usually wore, but a genuine, happy one. She seemed to take a moment to think before she nodded to herself and asked him about his appearance. Harry chuckled and nodded. "Fair enough, I think."

He thought for a moment on where to begin. Should he tell her about the Dark Star? Harry kept looking into her waiting eyes, looking as him with affection he had never been shown and he relented. Maybe she didn't need to know about the Dark Star just yet, that story didn't sound like something enjoyable to talk about.

"Well you know how I'm from a world called earth, right?" At her nod he continued "well when I was around eleven, something happened and I was taken to a void, where I remained in a sort of stasis, I couldn't feel the passage of time, I didn't feel anything, actually, but I am aware that I stayed that way for many years, since when I was transferred to the world I used to get here I was…well honestly I don't even know how old I am at this point.

I was taken in by this very order, well not the same order, it was a different world but you get my point. They trained my in magic since they felt my gift for the mystical, and when they felt I was ready they placed me on the same…position as you are now. Guarding…well, guarding these things.

The moment I entered, I could have sworn there was someone else with me, because there was a woman reading a book, sitting where you are now. For years she would whisper sweet things to me, trying to seduce me in whatever capacity. I would leave the vault to sleep and upon returning she would start anew, her caresses, her whispers of never-ending love, of how she would care for me for all eternity…I don't really know how long I resisted her touch, her sweet words, but in the end I folded, we became…intimate, and then one day, after we made love, she told me she was with child, but all I did was blink in my surprise, and then she just…wasn't there. I looked for her of course, in the vault, on the order grounds, but I knew…I **knew** the artifacts were enjoying my suffering. They had given me what I desired from the deepest parts of my being and just…tore it away from me.

I think it was then I broke, and I started studying every single one of my…wards. I wanted to know what they did, how they worked, everything. And after some years I started my revenge. I inflicted on them the pain I felt inside, I wanted them to know I held their fates in my hands, and that…. **death** , if these things can even die, was too easy.

So I relished on their suffering, I tore nearly all pages from a living book, able to feel the pain of its pages tearing, and then I'd reattach them, just so I could do it all again. I learned of the mirror with the memories of an ancient mage, and I had my fun as I scratched at the surface of the mirror, leaving him in complete darkness…just so I could repair the mirror and start all over again…"

He saw the talk made her uncomfortable, and decided to just…skip to the end, because if these shook her, he **really** wasn't going to tell her about the warlock he flayed for sport.

"Years went by, and I became distant to the surface, my skin grew pale…well, paler. And then one day, as I was…playing, the earth shook, and a mist entered what I came to consider my lair. It killed everything that lived, and tried to do the same to me. I obviously survived, but it changed me, as you can see."

The story created something of a rift between them, and Harry had to work hard to regain her trust, as she thought he was just either going to leave her eventually like the vision did to him, or he was playing with her before he…really began hurting her. He knew in his heart he'd never touch a hair of hers with the intent to harm her but he gave her the space she requested, still looking after her, protecting her with his magic so the artifacts couldn't disturb her anymore.

He noticed that she would steal glances toward him, her cheeks would color and her eyes would go back to the book in her grasp, but no words were exchanged between them; this went one for a long time, for Harry it honestly felt like an eternity; but eventually she turned to him, a smile on her face.

"You don't use my name much. Why?" It was a simple question but he actually stopped short when trying to answer. He honestly didn't know, because he thought her name was beautiful. Kayle watched him as he thought, and a grin spread as he shook his head. And idea forming in his head, he just hoped it didn't fuck everything up for good.

"I honestly have no idea, Kayle. I love the name." She blushed again and turned from him, but instead of the uncomfortable silence they had before, she spun again to him, eyes narrowed, but he beat her to the punch. Before she could speak, Harry leaned in close, a wicked smirk on his face. "Do you like it when I say your name, Kayle?"

Her whole face became red with embarrassment, and she sputtered some incoherent words before she turned from him, although he could see the smile on her face again. _Okay…so it didn't fuck things up._ He let her have a moment, and pretending to not have seen the smile on her face he tilted his head so he could have a better view of her face again.

They stared at each other for a moment before Kayle just got up and went to her bed, face still reddened. For a moment he thought maybe he **had** fucked up after all, but as she lay there, her back to him, he hear her whisper the answer to his question. She did like it when he spoke her name. He grinned, eyes alight; not that she would ever see that joyous moment, of course; and proceeded to keep watch over her, like he always had.

It had been many years later, and he really didn't know how much time had passed, when he'd finally kissed her, and they started growing closer still. He began caressing her face just because he felt like it and it didn't drive her away, instead she'd lean to his touch and her smile would light up the darkest pits of the void, he would pass his hand lovingly through her golden locks when she when to bed, humming a toneless tune for her to sleep before returning to his watch duty.

And finally, she had started taking his advice, and out of curiosity, she took her own version of the living book and ripped a few pages. He watched her, not daring to breath, simply taking pleasure from the suffering he felt radiating from the book as she did so, and after a minute without saying a think, another page was ripped away, and another, and another. He laughed then; cruelly, as she seemingly took a liking to it, stopping short from taking away the very last page before restoring the book and starting over. He was going to love watching her work.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes; he didn't need to sleep, but that didn't mean he couldn't; feeling the welcome weight of Kayle's presence on his chest, a smile appearing on his face. He turned his head from her for a moment, to look at the whimpering warlock, who'd cemented Kayle's corruption and their ultimate union. She'd been reluctant at first, when the man was put in her care by the order, but as the days went on, and she watched him work his magic on the immortal male, he noticed she would come closer and closer to him as he worked. It took a few weeks, but she started participating in the torture, little things at first, as he peeled the skin from the man's flesh, she would grind the chains against the wound, making the man cry out even higher in his pain.

Then she started peeling the skin from his bones herself, and Harry simply watched, his hands circling her waist lovingly as she did so. Some more weeks later and he'd suggest something for them to do together to the man, and giving her a hook, not unlike his own, they each hooked a side of the man's torso, and as he screamed for them to stop, they **pulled**. The sound of the man's flesh being torn and bones breaking had been so pleasurable Harry couldn't hold himself, and he ravaged Kayle moments later, a sentiment that was apparently reciprocated, as she attacked his lips much as he did hers.

Their **intimacy** was the last step in a ritual of sorts that would bind them to each other, which means that as long as he lived, she could not die. The ritual was one of many things he learned while studied under his version of the order, and was one of the few magics he had bothered to search for on his own. At first he wanted servants to help him feed and grow in power, but this use was better. Now she wouldn't die when destruction hit, though he wondered how she'd look once the mist had its way with her.

He got up, slowly so she wouldn't wake, and dressed up, walking around the vault, allowing his chains to drag through the floor, making the warlock whimper and cry louder. Harry stopped walking and turned to the man, a cruel smile on his face as he took hold of the chain holding his hook and spun it, deciding he wanted to use the man for target practice. He threw the hook once, hitting the man; who Kayle had the idea to maintain standing, so they had better access to every part of him; on the thigh. Harry sighed with his poor aim, he had wanted to hit the man on the chest, but mayhap he underplayed the strength necessary.

He pulled, ripping the hook from the man's leg, and he started preparing it for another throw. He kept at it for some time, until he was satisfied with the success ratio of his throws; of a hundred attempts, he'd hit seventy exactly where he intended to; and Kayle woke up, walking to him sensually with a wicked grin of her own.

"You're up early." She wrapped her arms around his chest, making him smile at the familiar touch. He looked from the warlock he'd been tormenting for some time now toward the woman he was pretty sure; if he had any clue to what the word meant; he loved. She was already aware of the destruction that came to his world by means of the mist, but he wasn't sure if it would happen on this version as well, despite all evidence pointing to an affirmative, he didn't want to worry her unless he was sure, but he also didn't lie to her if he could help it.

"Remember the destruction I told you about? That changed me? Well, given how long we had our little guest here" He patted the warlock on his head forcefully. "I believe it's safe to say it should happen soon here too." As he finished, as if summoned, the ground shook beneath them, and the door was nearly thrown off its hinges as it opened with the strength of the impact, and in swooped the green mist, slowly but surely making its way toward them, killing everything else that held life on its way. Harry chuckled as he turned toward Kayle and opened his arms, wanting to hold her during the process she was about to go through, and the woman turned her gaze upward to him and smirked; he'd been the **cuddly** one between them, but he couldn't help it, once he got used to them, he just loved hugs and affection in general; accepting his affection, closing her eyes as the green wave of death touched her, not killing her as her soul was bound with his, and he couldn't really die thanks to the Dark Star.

Unlike him, Kayle never was beaten almost daily growing up, she wasn't used to the pain, nor did she become a masochist due to, well, losing her mind; sadist, yes, even more so than Harry; so he tightened his hold on her as she screamed and shook as her body changed to its very core. He knew then he wanted payback for her suffering; he hadn't accounted to it being this great, since he took pleasure in it when it happened to him instead of actually feeling it; and an idea came to his head. The mist had **created** his new body, so maybe he could somehow consume it, so he could use it as he desired?

Kayle's shaking subsided and she slumped in his arms, the mist receding toward the door. Harry wanted to go after it, but he wasn't about to leave his Kayle just to satiate his curiosity, there was a chance he'd fail in his experiment, anyway. The woman groaned after a moment of quiet, blinking her eyes owlishly, and Harry noticed the first big change then, her eyes, once sky blue, had become a shade of green much like his own, and glowed in the same intensity.

She pulled away slowly, trying to assure him she was fine, and he took the moment to inspect what other changes there were to her appearance. Her hair was the first thing that caught his eye. Before she'd have the purest golden hair, and now her hair flowed like fire, glowing a vibrant green color. Her attire had become pretty much like his, since she used robes from the same order he used to serve. The only real changes he could see were that, where his coat was opened leaving his torso exposed, hers was closed with the bones serving as something of a protection, forming a big **X** just over her abdomen. He also noted that the chains hadn't melded to her skin, instead entering one of the skulls on her waist.

The other really big change to her attire was that, whereas he only had the hook, for some reason she had something like a lamp on her left hand, glowing a bright green and one lonely wisp resided inside, and Harry could hear the lamentations coming from it. It took him a moment but he understood that, the wisp inside the lamp was in fact the warlock they were working on for the past years, lamenting his eternal torment at the hands of Kayle, and he had to be honest, the thought made him shiver with desire for his companion.

His attention then moved to her face, and he saw that her skin had become ashen white, like his own, from her nose up, Kayle's face was covered by a mask, he couldn't really tell what it was supposed to represent, but he knew it wasn't a human skull, as the teeth were sharp and the mask extended into braid-like bones with small hooks at the tip. Her jaw was also covered by the mask, maybe it was the lower part of it, and there was nothing much about that specific part, except that again the teeth were sharp, nothing like a human skull.

"You okay?" He asked, concern for her evident in his tone, and she smiled up at him, nodding. Harry nodded back, before he kissed her lightly, and turned around, to check the outside and see what he could do about consuming the mist.

* * *

AN: Another chapter, woot \o

Anyway, this chapter sees the femthresh's transformation and next chapter shit's going to go down. For now though I'm going to say that I'm changing this from the planned single pairing to a Harry/Multi mostly for the fun around corruption more of LoL's women, so give me ideas who you'd like to see become a sadistic monster and we'll see about adding them. Don't you just love it when I change things out of the blue like that? No? Well I do '-'

Answering Reviews!

TinyFox2: Thanks and I know what you mean...stick around you'll see a special kind of Yandere here lol

Silber D. Wolf: Why thank you kind sir.

And that's all for this one, see ya \o


End file.
